


3AM Coffee

by elleliteration



Series: The Grinder Coffee Shop [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M, Writer AU, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:52:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleliteration/pseuds/elleliteration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky likes to take a break from writing at 3am and head to The Grinder for his nightly coffee. But he doesn't just go for the coffee. The midnight barista has caught his eye, but Bucky has a secret that can't get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3AM Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starknip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starknip/gifts).



Bucky loved getting coffee from The Grinder at 3am when he was on a writing binge, which was pretty much every night. He had three different deadlines looming over his head, getting closer and closer, and Bucky spent most nights staying up late in a caffeine fueled writing haze until he passed out. Then he woke up and started all over again. But that wasn’t what made him stop working and take a break to grab a cup at The Grinder.

The barista that worked the midnight shift always had a fresh French press waiting for Bucky when he showed up at 3am in his pajamas. It also didn’t hurt that the barista was gorgeous and spent his nights wearing clothes that were a lot closer to a three piece suit than not.

Bucky spent an hour every night drinking coffee, staring at the barista, imagining stories about him, about why he wore the suits he did to make coffee in the middle of the night for drunks and crazy writers. Steve would chatter about his family, his day, whatever was on his mind, and a lot of it made it into many of Bucky’s books. So far, the man had shown up in no less than four of Bucky’s published works.

The night Bucky went into The Grinder and saw Steve, the barista, reading one of his books - one that featured a likeness of Steve heavily, including a steamy sex scene - Bucky nearly had a heart attack in the doorway. But there was no way that Steve, or anyone in town, knew that Bucky was the infamous mystery and sci-fi writer, J. B. Barnes. Bucky was a bit of a recluse around town and J. B. Barnes rarely did public appearances and the picture that was in the back of his book was of the back of his head, from a distance.

“Do you really like that drivel?” Bucky had asked, nodding at the paperback that laid on the counter with a bookmark stuck in the middle while Steve prepared his cup of coffee.

Steve smiled as he handed the cup over the Bucky. “I like the world building and the characters. And there are some great jokes. And sometimes, I swear, sometimes, it’s like the author knows me, like he’s speaking directly to me.”

Bucky wanted to crawl under the counter and die of mortification, until he reminded himself a couple times that there was no way that Steve could possibly know that Bucky was the author. “Shared similar experiences, probably,” Bucky said and then took a sip of his coffee to hide his burning cheeks behind.

“Do you read?” Steve asked, the first time he’d asked Bucky a question beyond the benign ‘how was your day?’ and ‘how do you want your coffee?’ type questions.

Bucky grinned. “You could say that,” he answered and chuckled into his coffee. He read law books and science books and procedure books, and just about everything he could get his hands on for research for his books. He’d learned to hang glide for a book, and took a road trip across country on a motorcycle for another.

“What about Barnes?” Steve asked after a couple minutes of silence in the café.

“What about what?” Bucky asked, looking up from his phone where he’d been typing up a few lines about Steve to use for one of his current projects, shocked to hear his last name.

“J. B. Barnes. Do you read any of his works?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I’ve read a few,” Bucky said, hiding a grin behind his cup again. He hated his books by the time galley edits came around. By then, he’d read through his book at least six times in a very short time, and he was sick of seeing the words on paper. “They’re okay.”

“Okay?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky said, looking up from his phone again. “Why?”

“That’s all you have to say about your books?” Steve asked, coming around the counter with a new cup of coffee and setting it before Bucky.

“What? My books? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky said, looking around the empty coffee shop for someone to save him from Steve’s intent gaze, but the shop was empty except for the two of them.

“Don’t pay with a credit card if you want to stay off the radar,” Steve said, putting Bucky’s card on the small table next to the cup, ‘James B. Barnes’ staring at him from the face of the card.

“That’s a pretty common name,” Bucky said, evading.

“True, but Buchanan isn’t so common a name, Bucky,” Steve said and smirked as he slid into the chair across from Bucky.

“How did you find out?” Bucky asked with resignation. He rubbed a hand over his forehead. Once it got out that he was staying in this sleepy little town, he wouldn’t be able to stay. He’d have to move again, find someplace else to stay, another coffee shop to get his fix at 3am. It wasn’t likely he’d be able to find a coffee shop that had such a nice view.

“You’ve slipped up often enough over the last year. Pay with your credit card. Mutter about characters while you drink your coffee. Put things I’ve told you and only you in your novels,” Steve said and smiled. “I particularly like that last one.”

“So, how long do I have before the raving hordes show up to bang down my door?” Bucky asked, hoping he could at least get some sleep before he needed to pack and leave.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, confusion clouding his normally sunny expression.

“It always happens. I get found out, it gets posted on the internet, the fans show up in droves, and I end up having to move because of the harassment in the street. So I was wondering if you’d posted it on the internet yet, or if I had a bit of time to get some rest before I needed to start packing?”

Steve’s smile was tentative. “I was thinking I would keep you all to myself,” he said with a small shrug and his smile grew bolder. “I don’t always like to share.”  
Bucky’s eyes widened as he watched Steve in silence for a moment. “You aren’t going to tell?” Bucky asked finally.

“Not a chance.”

“Why? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but most people can’t keep it to themselves when they find me,” Bucky said, face scrunched in confusion.

“I wouldn’t invade a friend’s privacy like that. Not when we’re just getting to know each other,” Steve said, and flashed Bucky another smile, one that made Bucky’s cock twitch at the promise included in the gaze. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I, uh, yeah, I think I’d like that, too,” Bucky said and grinned back at Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://elleliteration.tumblr.com/) where you can ask questions or for a continuation. Fair warning, I'm on a bit of a break, but I'll pop on to answer questions.


End file.
